Catch A Glimpse
by Shira Lansys
Summary: After the Reichenbach Fall, there's only one man who John can turn to. One man and his TARDIS. Also known as Shira's very unlikely  Theory As To How Sherlock Survived.


**Catch A Glimpse**

John's trembling fingers push the number into the phone keypad. It is all he could think to do, now that….

Anywhere in the universe in any time, the Doctor had said. Well, he'd better bloody well have not been lying. John didn't care if the TARDIS is in the middle of a supernova while the Doctor is attempting to save some dying civilisation. He's needed here.

The phone rings twice before it's picked up, and Amy's sweet tones ring out through the speaker. "Hello?" she asks.

In the background, John can hear the whirring of the TARDIS and the humming of technology. He can hear the sound of the handbrake, that unique noise that Sherlock always tried to stop the Doctor from making. He can hear _him_, calling out probably from beneath the TARDIS engines.

"_How about Vesuvi, then, Pond, if you're so sick of Greece? It's a city made completely of glass! It's an amazing sight."_

"Amy," John says brokenly. "It's me."

"John?" she says, sounding worried. "What's up?"

"Sherlock…," John whispers. "He's… Sherlock is…."

"Oh," she says. "John, I'm so sorry. Hold on, I'll get the Doctor."

He knows she's pulled away from the mouthpiece because he can no longer hear the faint sound of her breathing. "Doctor!" He can hear her call on the other end of the phone. "It's happened."

Suddenly even the TARDIS engines sound quiet. He doesn't hear a word in reply, but a few seconds later a gentle voice sounds out through the earpiece. "John?" the Doctor asks. Cautious, like he's handling very fragile glassware. "Are you there?"

"Yeah," John murmurs. "I'm here."

"We're coming to London," the Doctor promises. "Give us two ticks." And then he hangs up.

John considers going to unlock the front door, but decides he can't be bothered. The Doctor will let himself in anyway.

'_It's happened.' _Why did Amy say that?

The noises of the TARDIS are audible now, whirring away somewhere close to him as the blue police box appears randomly somewhere nearby. To John's surprise, it is not the front door that he hears open; it is the bedroom upstairs that the morose trio come from.

"John," Amy says when she sees him. She opens her mouth to say something else – perhaps another apology – but then closes it again, instead rushing to him and sweeping him up in a hug. He lets her, and even rests his head on the crook of her shoulder for a moment.

When she lets go, John looks up and meet's the Doctor's eyes. "You knew," he accuses the Time Lord. "You knew that this was going to happen. That he was going to die."

"Of course I knew, John," the Doctor replies.

Once, John would have felt sorry for the Doctor, who was forced to endure as the ones he loved departed from the world while he carried on. Once he would have acknowledged that it was the Doctor's curse to know the fates of so many, but always unable to do anything to change it. Once, but not now.

"You let it happen!" he yelled, his anger and grief and frustration finally boiling over, fuelling his fury. "You could have saved him, but you let him die!"

"I couldn't save him, John, I swear," the Doctor said. "If there had been another way, then I would have done anything to keep him alive. But it was always meant to happen… it _had _to happen-"

"I don't care!" John roared, not even aware that Amy was cowering away from his anger, and that Rory had his arm around her, looking stricken. "It wouldn't have mattered if the entire fucking planet would have exploded! You should have done something!"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said.

"Take me back," John said suddenly, calmly. "Back to the rooftop when he jumped. We can stop him. We can catch him. We can do something."

But the Doctor was already shaking his head. "You know how this works, John," he said gently. "You know we can't do that."

"Why the hell not?" John yells, his calmness gone.

"You know why," was the simple reply.

John turns away, as though the argument is over. It isn't.

His Browning is sitting on the mantle, where it had been ever since the day John returned to 221B without Sherlock. What use did he have for it when the most dangerous thing he'd been facing is a sneeze?

He picks it up now and flicks the safety off. Then he turns, finger on trigger, and points it at the Doctor. "Take me back," he commands quietly.

He doesn't register Amy and Rory's gasps. He doesn't care that he's just pulled a gun on one of his closest friends. All he sees is the Doctor, the man who can bring Sherlock back from the dead.

The man spreads his hands in a sort-of shrug. "Shoot me then," he says simply. "It won't bring him back, and I don't think it will make you feel better. But you can shoot me if you want."

His calm is infuriating. "Take me back," John says again, more desperately this time. "Or I'll shoot you. I really will."

"Would you?" the Doctor asks. "Would you truly shoot one of your friends in cold blood?"

"Yes," John says, although it is obvious he is lying. His bluff has been called. Still, he tries one final time.

"Take me back." The fourth time he says it now, and the words have much less meaning. He turns the sight of the gun so that it is pointed at Amy's vivid red hair. "Or I'll shoot her."

"You won't," the Doctor says knowingly.

"You are _nothing_," John spits out. "None of you. You're all nothing, compared to him." That, at least, is the truth.

"I know, John," the Doctor says calmly, sympathy and sadness rich in his voice. "But you still won't do it."

He doesn't lower the gun, but it hardly matters. "What about Jack?" he says, even more desperate now. He's almost literally clutching at straws.

"What about him?"

"He's immortal. You told me the TARDIS did it. She can do that to Sherlock."

The Doctor looked sad. "She can't," he tells John. "When Jack was brought back, Rose took the time vortex into her mind. She should have died, even though she didn't."

"I'll do it," John says immediately. "I'll take the vortex thing, and I'll bring him back."

But the Doctor was shaking his head. "You can't," he informs the desperate man. "What happened with Rose was a one-in-a-billion thing. You'd probably explode before you took a single step."

"Let me try!" John exclaims.

"No," replies the Doctor.

It is then that John allows the gun to fall to the floor, and then follows it immediately, sinking to his knees in despair. Amy rushes to his side and puts an arm around him. He lets her, although he wishes she didn't. He probably shouldn't complain though, seeing as he'd threatened to shoot her.

His face is buried in his hands, even though it doesn't mask the sobs.

"There is one thing I can do," the Doctor tells John softly, after a while. "But you have to promise to do exactly as I say."

John looks up, but his eyes have lost the hope that once shone in them. "What is it?" he asks dully.

* * *

><p>Sherlock looks pale and ethereal, in the dim street lighting. He is bending over a doorway. John expects he is examining it in search of the scuff-marks he knows are there, but he can't be sure. It's not too long before Sherlock's death; so recent that John knows his past-self wasn't on this case because he had to work over-time at the clinic as a favour to Sarah.<p>

He kicks himself for that now; spending all his time away working when he had the opportunity to be with Sherlock on his cases. It must be the case with the butcher's pearls, he supposes. He was only around for the catching-the-criminal part.

Amy and Rory were left back in the future, and the Doctor is standing by the blue doors. Both he and John are wearing a key around their necks – a perception filter, apparently. John had been doubtful it would work on Sherlock, and said so.

The Doctor had laughed. "Yes, he is a tricky one. It should work though, mostly because he's not expecting it and partly because, for all his massive intellect, he is still just a human. He'll feel an awkward mental tickling, I imagine, which will drive him insane, but I doubt he'll figure it out until the very end, when it won't matter anymore anyway. If he figures it out at all."

It must have worked, because Sherlock doesn't seem to see John at all. A part of him is disappointed; he would have liked to talk to Sherlock. He could have pretended to be past-John. Sherlock probably would have figured it out anyway, but would it really have done so much harm…?

The Doctor seems to think so, because he approaches and mutters in John's ear, "You can go closer, if you want, but keep your distance. With anyone else, you could probably risk breathing down their neck, but he _is_ very observant."

John nods, and takes slow, cautious steps toward the man examining the doorway. It's raining heavily, and John is soaked as soon as he steps out from under the eaves and onto the road. He's not the only one who's wet; even in the dim light and from a distance, John can see the man's dark curls are sticking to his pale, saturated skin.

He gets within a few feet of his dead flatmate before he stops, conscious of the Doctor's warning. Fighting the urge to rip off the key and reveal himself, he stands absolutely still.

When Sherlock looks up suddenly, John thinks something has gone wrong and his heart leaps. But Sherlock looks right through him, before his eyes wander to the side. He frowns, peers intently at the air a little to the left of John, then does a one-eighty and walks back in the direction of Baker Street.

John fights down his disappointment as he watches the retreating back. He wonders if he should follow the detective, but he decides not to push his luck. Besides, seeing Sherlock so full of life has left an ache in his chest that he knows will only get worse if he draws this out, and the water on his face isn't completely the fault of the rain.

He returns to where the Doctor is standing, watching John with sympathetic eyes. "Where to now?" he asks.

"Home," John replies, although in his heart he no longer thinks of 221B as home.

Nowhere's home without Sherlock.

* * *

><p>"You could come with us, you know," the Doctor tells John. "Get out of the flat for a bit and see the stars. We'd love to have you."<p>

John shakes his head. "Thanks," he tells the Doctor, "but no thanks. I want to stay in Baker Street for a while, although maybe later I wouldn't mind going with you. But not now."

He can't find the words to tell them that he doesn't want to leave while Sherlock's memory is still so fresh. John can't stand the idea of leaving behind Sherlock's memory.

But the good thing about friends, as well as the fact you can pull a gun on them without them holding a grudge, is the fact that you don't always need to say what you mean. Sometimes, they just understand. And even if they don't, then they accept it anyway.

"We'll come back, John," Amy promises. "We have to. We're having lunch with Greg next Sunday."

"Although we'll probably forget," Rory chimes in. "But if we don't show up in while, you can phone us."

"Thanks," John says, and he means it.

"Take care," Amy says, as she hugs him goodbye. "Don't hesitate to ring!"

"I won't," John promises, and even manages a small goodbye smile as they step into the TARDIS. "Have fun. Don't destroy any planets."

"We'll try not to," Amy calls. Then the doors are shut, and John's looking at a blue box. Within seconds, the engines are roaring and the TARDIS is beginning to disappear.

"Goodbye," John whispers.

* * *

><p>Amy throws down her coat and sinks into a chair. "That was horrible," she moans, putting her face into her hands. "Poor John."<p>

"It shouldn't be for too long," the Doctor says, fiddling with the controls. "Although I do know how you feel."

"He's so heartbroken," Amy says sadly. She turns around to speak to the man standing by the wall behind her. "Can't you tell him?" she begs. "John needs you."

Sherlock frowns at her. "Not yet," he says. "But soon. Everything is beginning to fall into place."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is set in the universe of my still-to-be-posted Sherlock-Doctor Who crossover fanfiction, a while after Sherlock and the Doctor 's probably not a great idea to post spin-offs before you post the main fanfiction, but although I swear I will get around to completing it some day and putting it up, I'm not inclined to wait that long. **

**There's also going to be a prequel to this oneshot posted as soon as I get it back from my beta, so if you care to read it, keep an eye on my profile. **


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